Unknowing
by Ruka Jaganshi
Summary: Kisame did recognize it, he had heard his voice countless times, he could have recognized it among a million of other voices.


**Unknowing**

(pair of the other oneshot Regret - read that one too ;)

Big and strong as he was, he threw his own weight towards the two figures, a swing by his enormous blade an addition to his speed. He swam in the air, flinging the sword once again, this time forward, aiming to cut Sasuke into two.

He missed by an inch, the Uchiha survivor's foot met with his palm, the other with his blade, closely followed by a left fist.

Surprisingly, Kisame had a memory just like any other humans, so he knew this move already, and before Sasuke could have let the hidden explosive kunai slip from his sleeve, his remaining fist was captured – crushed – by razor sharp teeth.

At that moment Kisame loved the scream he heard; if this was pleasure, he had never felt pleasure before. The feeling of those cursed bones crushing under his teeth as lightly as bisquits, it filled him with the taste of sweet, sweet revenge.

It crushed so easily, as if it was not the same as the one giving out the deadly Chidori moments ago.

This hand would never again hurt his partner. He would assure it.

The boy was screaming involuntarily and losing his balance, his body arching in pain, when Kisame heard it.

"Stop it, you moron."

He turned with the crippled hand in his mouth, slender streams of blood dropping from his chin, the avenging brother clinging on him, close to sobbing and ready to grab any upcoming opportunities at striking back or getting free.

Itachi's voice was quiet but not a bit weakened; his red orbs observed them behind the curtain of his dark bangs fallen on his face previously as the force pushed him to the ground.

"Let him go."

Kisame knew why his partner wanted it so, and he did not agree, but of course it was not his business to deal with. As he stirred, Sasuke swang, his kick seeped the air in front of the cruel, bluish face before he was thrown to the other side of the clearing; the one where Naruto was just about to gather his strength again and run at the enemy with several battle shrieks coming from his Kage Bunshin clones.

"Here you are, Itachi-san. But then I say we leave now, for you're not in the condition of fighting." said the shark-being while he lifted up the dark, weak body, careful not to hurt it unnecessarily.

He grinned at the orange boy-mass gathering around them, and he jumped.

After endlessly stretched minutes of silent sweeping in the foliage, he put down his burden in a safe place, to the base of a tree.

"You didn't make his hand useless, did you?"

Kisame did not know.

"No, Itachi-san. He'll be able to recover."

He examined the blood-soaked, dark coat. His strong fingers fiddled with the opening a bit clumsily as he tried to be careful, which he was not really used to. Itachi still groaned as the material's edges sticking to his wound were removed.

Blood emerged.

As it smeared the light blue hands, they stood in a weird, somehow horrid contrast with each other.

The Uchiha gave his all to surpass the unconscious whimpers, pale lips shut tight, hands in fists to prevent trembling; his eyes, dark and blind, got a little foggy at every movement.

When Kisame finished exposing the wound and stopped to take a closer look at it, Itachi took soundless, deep breaths, eyes still gazing into nothing. Kisame found himself praying silently for those eyes to turn red, to consume chakra, for that would have meant there _is_ chakra to consume.

But there was not, it had been clear for a while now.

Itachi found his voice finally.

"You mustn't kill him, he still has to get strong." he whispered, although he tried to force something louder, more confident out of himself. "He's still not worth it… not strong enough… to kill me… still… he has to tr…ain…"

Kisame took down his large coat, then his dark, sleeveless shirt; he did not need his teeth to tear it.

"He couldn't kill… me now." Itachi pointed out. He decided to ignore that he could only whisper, or he did not mind anymore. "Although a nice blow… hell I need time… to recover…"

His voice faltered at the sudden rape of his wound.

"I'm sorry, this might be inconvenient for you." Kisame noted.

"I'll be okay… in a while… can't even feel it-"

Kisame did not answer; instead, he pressed the dark cloth tightly on the wound, but it soaked through; crimson fluid emerged under his large palms.

He heard blood in those labored breaths, and soon his partner coughed. So he sat him up and settled him in his arm.

"How… bad is it?" asked Itachi, a voice so weak, barely to recognize. Kisame did recognize it, he had heard his voice countless times, he could have recognized it among a million of other voices.

"We'll see, Itachi-san." he replied.

Small, stiff eyes watched the blood emerging from the container, together with which it was called human.

The human coughed again, it was a sound identical to the suffering of the people they had killed. His dark eyes looked around in the nothing they saw; looking for something maybe.

Kisame considered noting "_I'm here…_", but remained silent in the end. Itachi was deeply sensible to his own pride, and he might not start feeling lonely _now_ anyway.

The Uchiha attempted to speak, but blood ran out in the corner of his mouth, and he was not able to talk any more.

Eyes narrowed slightly as his lips parted to get some air but he did not get any.

Kisame kneeled unmoving, holding the weakening body, his mind racing, searching for anything he could do, but there was nothing, he was helpless. Anyone would have been helpless in this situation.

He thought to hear his own name while Itachi's hand searched for… no, not help, he never needed anything like that; rather for something to hold on to tightly, air rashly crowding out of his lungs, followed by the dark fluid he was desperate to get rid of, but there was more and more, large patches paddled to the ground as Kisame held him tightly and leaned his body forward, not bothering to hope it would help.

Soon it was over. The body, oddly small compared to his, relaxed and stopped struggling for air.

No thoughts came.

Several minutes, or maybe years passed until Kisame stirred, letting the corpse unconsciously lean back into his arms.

Itachi looked as if he was sleeping, his sleep much calmer than those during his life. There had always been that grumpiness on his face. But it lacked these outlines now; he looked relaxed, peaceful. As if he had finally found where he belonged.

Kisame had never thought about where Itachi belonged, for it was obvious from the start that he belonged nowhere.

He felt his hand heavy as lead while he reached up and wiped the slender path of blood from the corner of his partner's lips. There, it was way better.

Not for him, though; something started to hurt inside from the touch. Even the cooling lukewarmth of the corpse seemed to hurt, although this was a weird thought.

It was somewhat unsettling, this feeling. It was like a voice hidden deep down, unheard and still screaming at the dead: _get up, get up now, open our eyes, turn it red. Turn it red and get up and walk away. _

This was the second time today that Kisame was helpless against something. But he was not the one to panic about it, so he put the smaller, blood stained body down and covered it with his coat.

_Don't fool me, you dirty cheater_, screamed the dull pain inside; _get up now, you're evil, don't do this to me, your partner. _

_I'll beat you into c__rap when you come back, I swear; just let me know if your play is for the enemy, I'm your partner, damnit, you make me sad… you make me sad… _

The demon fox was approaching; the brat came with a lightning speed, rage fuming in and out of him in form of the red chakra, only minutes separating him from finding the hiding figures.

Kisame stood up, and, half naked and blood spattered as he was, he swung the enormous blade across his shoulder, walking towards the battle field to kill.

_You make me sad… you make me sad… _


End file.
